The Uniform
by opusqe
Summary: It's been 5 months since Hans Landa gave himself up to the Americans. Now he finds himself back in Germany helping an escaped Jew return to her home and avenge her family. *Rated M for Chapter 8*
1. Kapitel 1

A loud bang woke me from my sleep. I looked around frantically, unable to see anything. I couldn't move my hands; they were tied together. Something was stuck inside my mouth so I couldn't speak.

_How was this able to happen without me waking up?_ I asked myself.

"In here, our prisoner."

A bright light started to shine through the cloth that covered my eyes. A pair of arms pulled me up.

"She's fighting for vat side now?"

"Zee Americans, I zink. Possibly zee French."

"Is she Jewish?"

"I don't know. Vee should ask — ow! Damn it, zat 'urt!"

"Vee can't just ask, you idiot. You interrogate."

I recognized their accents as German, and I began to pray. _I don't want to die_, I thought. _God, please..._

Suddenly I could see and I was face-to-face with two fat Germans, both wearing Nazi uniforms. Well, one was fat and the other was muscular. I stared at them, scared for my life.

"'oo's side are you on?" the fat one asked, ripping the gag from my mouth.

"Who wants to know?" I retorted quickly.

The muscular one raised his hand, hitting my cheek. I fell to the side, hitting the ground. I winced. When I was put back on my feet, I noticed another figure behind them. I could tell by the build that it was a man; but his face was hidden behind a red scarf and a Nazi's cap on his head.

He raised a finger up to where his mouth would be, and I swallowed hard. His coat was one of the enemy's as well.

"Vere are you from?" the fat man demanded.

"I am from America," I answered honestly. I was watching the mystery man, but I remained careful not to give away his presence.

"Now ve're getting somevare," the muscular man muttered.

"Are you Jewish?" the fat man continued, disregarding his companion's remark.

"Now," I replied, "why the hell would I tell you that? I'm going to die anyways, whether I tell you or not."

The muscular man pulled a knife out of his pocket and threatened to hurt me with it. I lost sight of the mystery man, but I hoped he was on my side.

"Vat do you mean by saying zat you are about to die?" the fat man asked, holding his hand up.

"Well, I'm not Hitler's definition of perfect, am I?" I responded rudely. "Brown hair, brown eyes. Why, if my hair were shorter and if I had a little mustache - if I was a bit uglier as well - I'd look a lot like the fucker himself, wouldn't I?"

That statement provoked the muscular man, who jumped at me instantly. I felt the knife dig into my stomach, and I cried out in pain.

There was a loud bang and the muscular man fell to the ground. I noticed a bullet hole less than an inch away from his temple. I could feel myself getting weaker from blood loss; I fell to my knees.

"Vat vas zat?" the fat man asked loudly.

A second bang and he tumbled on top of his partner. There was a bullet hole where his heart was. The sight was disgusting, but I was thankful. I leaned on the crate next to me.

The mystery man appeared from behind a crate a few feet away, and he bent down to check their pulses. He turned to me, lifting my shirt up to check my injury. He looked down at the bleeding stab wound.

"Thank you," I croaked.

He glanced up at me, then turned back to what he was doing. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and pressed it against my newest wound. He removed some gauze from another pocket and began to dress the injury.

"I'm Jewish, by the way," I whispered. "I didn't want to answer them. But you saved me, you deserve to know. You can bring me in and execute me."

He glanced at me, and I noticed his eyes. They were green; they told me to shut up.

He put more pressure around the gash, and I gasped. Seeing my pain, he tore a piece of wood from the crate beside me and stuck it between my teeth. It was then I realized the knife was still in me.

With an apologetic look, he yanked it out. I tried to scream, but the wood stopped me. Tears escaped from my eyes. I spit the wood out.

He used the knife to cut my wrists free of the ropes. He put more gauze on my wound and looked down at his work. He stood up.

He put his hands under my arms and lifted me to my feet; he placed me on top of the crate. I felt myself getting weaker and weaker. Seeing the state I was in, he picked me up and held me like a baby: one arm was under my shoulders while the other was under my knees. He carried me outside and through a hole in a barbed-wire fence. I clung to him, hiding myself in his arms. Despite the fact I knew he was going to kill me, I trusted him. I trusted him enough to sleep in his arms as he carried me off to where he would murder me.


	2. Kapitel 2

The smell of smoke. The sound of a fire cracking and leaves rustling. The feel of the ice cold ground under my body.

I opened my eyes. I was alone in the woods, a fire burning beside me. The man's coat was over me, keeping me from freezing. He was nowhere to be seen.

I tried to sit up, but I fell back down. I pulled the coat tighter; it was so warm.

"Hello?" I called.

To my right, leaves rustled; he was standing in between two trees, a pile of logs were in his arms. He walked to my side, dropping the wood a few feet away from me and the fire. He was still wearing the scarf and the cap; his clothing was still that of a Nazi.

He pulled the coat away, rolling my shirt up. I felt the gauze lift up as he checked the bleeding, and he redressed the wound and put his coat back on me.

"Can you help me sit up?" I asked softly.

He responded by helping me sit up. He reached for a log and threw it on the fire.

"Are you cold?" I asked.

His eyes met mine, and he shook his head. He stared into the fire. I noticed him shiver.

I scooted closer to him, throwing the coat around his shoulders. He pushed it away, moving away so I could not offer him warmth.

"Please," I asked.

His head turned from side to side, answering me. His hands folded and he leaned over the fire.

"Can you talk?"

He nodded.

Since he didn't speak, I followed up with another question. "Will you talk?"

He shook his head.

I pouted. He refused to tell me anything. _He's keeping a secret_, I thought. _How do I get him to talk?_

A burst of pain exploded where I had been stabbed, and I grimaced. He was by my side instantly.

He moved the coat, placing it beside me. He lifted my shirt up, checking the gauze. After a moment of examination, the gauze lifted up. I looked down at what he was doing, and I saw how bad it was. I almost got sick.

"How can you deal with seeing it?" I asked, squeezing my eyes shut.

He dabbed at the blood gently, then restored everything to its correct place. He had me lay on my back.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he was gone before I could. He was on the other side of the fire, watching over me. A gun was in his hand.

_He's keeping me safe_, I thought. _He wants me alive. _I swallowed. _I must be going to a higher rank. He's not allowed to kill me, or he would've done it by now._


	3. Kapitel 3

"Please, can't you say something?" I pleaded.

I could tell by his eyes that he was smiling under the scarf. I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You're no fun."

He allowed a chuckle to escape from his mouth. That was all I really wanted to hear; I was tired of being answered by silence.

He didn't want me walking; he was still carrying me. It had been two full days since he had rescued me. My patience was wearing thin; I wanted him to speak to me.

"I'll tell you anything you want if you say something."

He laughed again, and then he seemed to consider my offer. He cleared his throat. My plan actually seemed to work.

"Why do you insist I speak?"

I beamed at him. "I wanted to hear your voice. I was tired of getting answered by silence. I was lonely."

"You're persistent, I'll give you that." He stopped and looked up at the sky.

"Why do you wear that scarf?" I asked after a moment.

"My own protection," he answered. "I have many enemies."

I nodded. After a minute of silence, I had to ask another question.

"What are you going to do with me?" I asked.

"I'm not going to kill you."

He was German, but his accent was not as strong as that of the two men he had saved me from. He placed me on the ground next to a log, taking his coat off and putting it on my shoulders. Turning away, he left to get wood for a fire.

After ten minutes or so, he returned with a pile of wood. I helped him set it up, and he lit it. He sat close to me.

"Why are you here in Germany?" he asked after a moment.

"To avenge my family."

He looked at me, surprised. "Is this why Adolf and Karl kidnapped you?"

I shrugged. "Damned if I know. I went to bed in a farmer's house and woke up in that warehouse."

"It was a camp," he interrupted. "Nowhere near as bad as Dachau or Auschwitz, but bad nonetheless." he sighed.

"Will you tell me your name?" I asked, trying to break the tension quickly.

His eyes met mine. "My name?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, we've been traveling together for almost three days and I still don't know your name."

"I don't know yours," he pointed out with a smile. "I'm Hans Landa."

"Well I'm Elizabeth Cohen, oldest daughter of the late Rachel and Jacob Cohen and sister of the late Hannah, Rivka, and Gabriel Cohen." I smiled.

His smile faded. "Your entire family?"

I nodded. "I was the lucky one. I wasn't home, and I was out of the country at the time." I looked at the fire. "I snuck into their camp when I returned so I could see them once more..." I swallowed hard. "I had told them vacationing was a bad idea. I suggested England — but my father insisted Germany was worth it." I squeezed my eyes shut, ready to cry. "I know who killed them. I don't know his name, but he was a colonel in the SS. I'll know it's him when I find a man with a swastika carved in his forehead." I clenched my fists. "I promise to kill him once I find out his name. Damn, I wish I could find him." When I finished my rant I burst in to tears.

He put an arm around me, lightly patting my back. "There, there, Elizabeth, don't cry." He hushed me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. "There's no need for tears."

I looked up at him. "Hans, you have no idea. I've lost everything. I've spent every last penny trying to find the bastard who killed my family. I have nowhere to go, no one to help..."

He made me look at him, and he wiped away my tears. "Elizabeth, want you to know that I'm here to help. I want you to be aware that you'll always be welcome to stay with me."

I smiled weakly. "Thank you," I replied quietly. I looked down at his hand, which was on my leg. "I'm sorry to drop this on you. I barely know you, but I'm venting to you anyways. You actually bothered to listen."

He squeezed my leg. "Don't apologize for it. I understand what pain you're going through. I would have done the same if I were in your place."

I closed my eyes, resting my head on his shoulder. As I started to doze off, I felt him stroke my hair. He started to hum, and after a moment of humming, he started to sing something in German. My mind shut down listening to him sing.


	4. Kapitel 4

_"Elizabeth!"_

_I rise at the sound of my name. It has been two months since I returned from Germany. My father's friend from work approaches me and holds out a pocket watch. I take it in my hands._

_"He wanted you to have this, Elizabeth," Lieutenant Raine says._

_I look up at him. "Are all of them dead?" I ask._

_He bows his head. "There were pictures, but—"_

_"Show me," I demand._

_He reluctantly pulls the photos from his pocket. I take them in my hands. My baby sister Rivka has multiple bullet holes; I have heard they use infants for target practice. My younger sister Hannah has a swastika carved into her forehead, and there is a German phrase carved into her cheek. My mother and father lie in a gas chamber together, holding hands. My older brother Gabriel is the one who went through the least pain; I am told he died of illness._


	5. Kapitel 5

I sat up, covered in sweat. I was alone; Hans was nowhere to be seen. The fire was dying. His gun was beside me. I picked up the weapon quickly, getting ready to fire if I was startled.

It wasn't night, but it wasn't day either; it was dawn.

_He didn't just leave me..._ I thought.

"Put the gun down."

I swallowed hard. A figure emerged from the bushes ahead of me, but I realized it was Hans.

"Damn it, Hans, you scared me half to death!"

He smiled under his scarf. "Sorry." He pointed back at where he had come from. "I found a creek back there, I wanted to clean myself off a little bit." He cleared his throat. "Here, I'll check out you're wound."

He went through the same routine he did three times a day. When he had finished checking it, he told me I was probably strong enough to walk on my own. He had me stand up.

"Damn," I joked, "I liked it when you carried me."

Suddenly he picked me up in his arms, catching me off guard. I shrieked, hitting his shoulders. After a moment, he put me back on my feet. I knew the smile on my face was priceless, and he made me feel comfortable to smile like an idiot.

We started walking, following the creek. We kept our distance, but made sure we could see it. About two hours passed without either of us saying a word.

"Hans," I asked, "can I see your face?"

He looked at me. "No," he answered coldly. He continued to move forward.

"But...why?"

He laughed. "You ask questions like a little child. I told you, I have enemies of my own to worry about."

"So I'm an enemy?"

He stopped short, causing me to bump into him. He looked down at me, regarding me with an icy cold gaze.

"No," he answered after a brief pause. "No, Elizabeth, I think of you as more than a friend."

I raised my eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He took my hand and led me over to a log, where we sat down. He looked at me with his green eyes, holding one hand in both of his. The way his eyes twinkled made me realize what he was about to say.

"When I saw how you were in danger, I decided to save you. I planned on killing those men—my fellow Germans—so I could get you out of the camp safely. I was going to cut those ropes and lead you to safety.

"But that bastard Adolf stabbed you. I couldn't just leave you to die. So I helped you." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I never thought that I would be in love with you."

My first instinct was to hide away; luckily I ignored it and sat there in shock. I hadn't seen it coming. I turned away.

"Hans..."

I wondered why he thought he could never fall in love with me. The thoughts that came into my mind were quickly dismissed.

_Live in the moment_, I told myself, facing him again.

"Hans, can we keep going?" I asked.

He looked crestfallen. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, I'm just...I'm really confused." True. "I need to think this over a bit more." True. "I still haven't figured out my feelings for you." FALSE.

I was in love with him in return. He was a gentleman, and he was treating me with the utmost respect. He seemed to be nice. He listened to me and took care of me.

I was only afraid to say "I love you."


	6. Kapitel 6

He had taken to holding me at night when he was tired, and we were both exhausted; we shared his coat and used it for warmth. It was awkward, because one of us would be awake and the other would roll over and face us.

He rolled over, and I found he was still awake. He stared at me and I stared back at him.

"I'm sorry about earlier," I apologized.

He closed his eyes. "It's okay. Four days...it's too fast, I understand."

I reached up, pulling the scarf down from his nose and mouth. His eyes opened suddenly, they would have scared anyone; but not me. I closed my eyes and kissed him.

He kissed me back. It was a first kiss that actually meant something. To be in love with Hans Landa meant more to me than being in love with anyone one in the world. He was the only person I had; my entire family was either dead or in America. But he was sitting with me right there and then in Germany, kissing me with a passion I had never felt before.

His hands grabbed my arms, pulling me softly against him. His embrace was warm and welcoming.

After a solid five minutes we stopped kissing. He stared at me, his eyes filled with a coldness I had never seen before. I looked down at my lap, pressing my forehead against the crest of his neck.

Words that could have been said would have meant nothing; the silence spoke words that meant everything. I listened to his breathing, which was a little bit off.

"Elizabeth," he whispered faintly. He gently kissed my forehead.

"Hans," I started.

He lifted my chin with his finger, but I quickly turned away; I didn't want him to see my tears.

"Angel, what's wrong?" he asked softly, lifting my chin again so I could look him in eye.

"Nothing," I answered, quickly dismissing him.

"Angel," he replied. He kissed away my tears. "If you're crying, it must be something."

The pain those kisses brought me was too harsh. It reminded me of a past love who had abandoned me. I didn't want to go through the pain again; I wasn't ready for it again.

"Elizabeth," he started, his voice low, "tell me what bothers you."

"A past love, nothing more," I answered, moving to sit up.

He stopped me, making me lay down again. He offered me a weak smile before pulling me tight against his chest, and I buried my face in his scarf, which he now wore around his neck. Sleep came quickly that night.


	7. Kapitel 7

"I can barely walk any further, Hans…"

He turned around, noticing me several feet behind him. He laughed, bending over in front of me. "Jump," he offered.

I stared at his back. "Huh? Oh, Hans, I couldn't—"

"I insist." He looked over his shoulder. "Come on, don't be shy. I can carry you."

I hesitated. He was at least ten years older than me, and he was telling me to jump on his back. _He can't be fucking serious_, I thought.

"We're not too far from where I'm taking you. It's okay, climb on my back. I'll carry you for two miles."

I put my hands on his shoulders and jumped. With a grunt, he pulled me onto his back and I could feel his hands horribly close to my rump. I rested my head on his shoulder, my mouth close to his ear. He continued to walk forward, following the creek for another 50 yards or so. Then he turned away from the creek and towards the road.

"I thought we were going to stay in the woods?" I asked.

He smiled. "That was the plan. But there's somewhere I want to take you. And to be honest, I'm a bit tired of all this walking."

I blew gently into his ear, and he shrugged his shoulder. As we grew closer to the road, when we were about 50 feet away, he put me back on my own feet. He pulled the scarf over his nose and mouth again.

"No funny business," he whispered, grabbing my hand. "I'm going to get us a ride to our destination."

I linked arms with him. _He must be freezing! All he's wearing is that scarf…_

He led me up to the road, and I heard his teeth chattering. The awful feeling of a loved one freezing made me sad.

A truck approached us, and he raised his free hand above his head to hail the driver. The truck pulled over and Hans went around to speak with the driver.

"Kann ich Ihnen helfen, Herr?" the driver asked.

"Bitte," Hans replied, "haben meine Frau und ich seir Tagen im Wald verloren gegangen. Wir sind neu in der Gegend, sehen Sie. Wir sind beide schwach. Wir haben Tagen unterwegs mit nichts als jeder andere. Wir haben sehr wenig zu essen hatten, nur sehn wenig zu trinken. Ich erkenne die Straße. Unser Haus liegt in untmittelbarer Nähe. Würden Sie bitte bringen uns da?"

The driver blinked. "Die alte Landa Platz, Herr?"

"Ja. Meine Frau, bitte, ist schwanger. Wenn sie nicht nach Hause komme bald werden sie und unser ungeborenes Kind sterben."

"Spricht sie Deutsch? Sie sieht nicht, wie sie aus unserem Land ist."

"Sie ist aust Amerika, sie spricht kein Deutsch, nur Englisch. Wir haben nicht mal einen Monat verheiratet, aber ich plane, ihr Deutsch zu lehren."

After a long pause, the drive answered. "Ich entschuldige mich, aber ich sprechen er Deutsch. Ich freue mich, Ihnen eine Fahrt anbieten. Bitte, mit mir in meinem Auto."

Hans opened the door for me, letting me go in before he did. "He doesn't speak English. He believes you are my wife and that you are pregnant with my child, so please bear with me."

I nodded. "I heard him say your name with a grudge."

"The uniform I wear is one many people hate, angel. He must have lost a loved one." The door slammed and the truck pressed forward. I linked arms with him again. "The only reason he is driving us is because of what I told him."

"Warum sind Sie in der Uniform der Nazis?" the driver asked.

"Ich war ein Nazi einmal. Ich ging, weil ich meine Frau kennengelernt. Ich möchte, dass sie sicher zu sein."

"Ist sie Jüden?"

"Ja." He looked down at me. "He trusts me now. He believes I ran away from the Nazis to be with you." He chuckled.

The truck stopped and I looked out the window. There was a huge house before us.

"Vielen Dank, Herr. Meine Frau und ich sind dankbar für Ihre Nächstenliebe."

"Nichts zu danken."

We got out of the truck and the man drove away. Hans looked down at me.

"Our home for the next few days," he explained. "A fireplace to keep our surroundings warm, plenty of books to keep us entertained, a good amount of food and drink to keep us healthy, and beds to keep us warm."

I looked at him mischievously. "Those beds are for more than just keeping us warm." I ran up to the house.

He followed me, opening the door for me. "Is that what I think it means?"

"We're going to so stuff only married people should do." I winked and ran up the stairs.


	8. Kapitel 8

He appeared at the top of the stairs, his green eyes meeting mine. The look on his face was a mixture of emotions; the most dominant were love and worry.

"You're hurt," he pointed out politely. "I don't want you to get hurt anymore than—"

I put my hands on my hips and raised my eyebrow at him. "Are you scared to do this?"

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "No—"

"Are you nervous?"

"Well, you see—"

I walked over to him and put my arms around his neck. His hands carefully slipped around my waist, and he kissed me gently.

"It's my first time," I admitted, trying to help.

"There have been many women in my life," he replied. "I want to take my time with this one." He slid his hands under my shirt, closing his eyes and giving me a passionate kiss.

He stopped suddenly, and I frowned.

"Hold on, angel," he said quickly, turning into a room. "Let me get the bedroom ready."

I watched him leave me, going into the room and closing the door behind him. I sat on the ground, waiting for him and watching the door intently. After a good ten minutes, he came out. For the first time in a week, he had taken off his hat.

"Come on, angel," he said, holding out his hand. "Everything is ready."

My hand reached out and grabbed his, and he slowly led me into the room. There was a white wool blanket folded beside a bear fur rug, which was beside the fire place. The smell of smoke wafted through the air, which caused me to notice that there was a fire burning. There was a four-poster bed with clean off-white blankets and two pillows on each side. In short, everything was more than perfect.

"Oh, Hans, this is wonderful," I gasped.

"We have options," he pointed out. "There's the bed, and then there's the floor. Lady's choice."

"Can we start in the bed?" I asked. "And then move to the floor?"

He smiled down at me. "Of course." We walked over to the bed and sat down next to each other.

"Is it really your first time?" he asked quietly as we slowly lay on the bed.

I nodded. "Yes."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine. "Don't worry, angel, I'll go easy on you. And I'll give you fair warning when I'm ready to go in."

He started to kiss me the way the French kissed. His hands softly caressed my stomach, drifting over my scar; I finally responded to his kiss. My heart was beating louder than bombs and air-raid sirens.

His hands slinked away from my stomach and up a little higher on my body and I let a rush of air escape from my mouth. He smiled as his hands finally reached their destination. It was an unusual feeling, but it was amazing all the same. I felt an erection rise in his pants, and I couldn't help but grin.

"Happy to see me?" I teased.

He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head. He then took the waistband of my pants and pulled them down, kissing my neck lightly.

I had no idea what to do at this point, so I reacted by undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as slowly as I possibly could.

"Take your time, angel," he whispered softly in my ear.

He wasn't muscular, but he wasn't thin or fat either; his chest muscles were strong, but his stomach was definitely a little chubby. _I'll tease him later about that._ But he seemed absolutely perfect to me.

I rolled onto my back, and he sat with his legs on either side of me. I swore I could hear his heart racing a million times faster than mine. I reached up to unbuckle his belt, and he grinned.

"Going to free the beast now, are you?" he joked, helping me so we could go a little faster. He moved so quickly that I didn't see him take off his shirt or his pants. His underwear was a little too tight on him; it turned me on a little bit.

He lowered himself down on me and rolled over so I was on top of him. He lovingly kissed me and touched me, and I did the same with a similar feeling.

He moved his hand down my side, crossing over my underwear to get to the other side of my body. His fingers curled under the band, and he started to tug them down, removing them from my body. He gently ran his hands up the inside of my thigh, getting me ready for what was to come.

I put my nose against his jaw, kissing his neck. I could feel myself getting better at this experience. I began to suck on his neck, hoping that I would be able to leave my "mark." My hands were holding his underwear, waiting to make their move.

He started to stroke me, and I felt my entire body get tense. I stopped moving my mouth, trying to understand the things I was feeling, both physically and mentally. I couldn't help but moan, and his lips curled into a smile. My hands clenched down, and I heard a loud ripping come from where my hands were. I realized I had ripped his underwear, and I felt my face turn bright red.

"It seems like my little angel is ready."

He kissed me one last time before sitting up. He positioned me so I was on all fours and my rump was against his body; his hands were on my waist.

Ready or not, I needed him.

"I'm going in from behind," he warned in a whisper, pushing himself in without trouble.

It took a moment for me to process properly. He gently pushed at first, and with each thrust he progressively went a little harder. It didn't take me too long to realize the pleasing pain. I let out a scream and I felt myself having trouble breathing. The pain was awful, but all the same it was amazing and horribly pleasing.

His hands squeezed my waist, and I twitched violently at the pressure point. To get back at him, I jerked my rump against his pelvis. He let out a gasp that would've pleased any girl from any country; his moan made me happy, and I felt satisfied at his pain. He began to pump harder and faster, and I could barely breathe. He stopped abruptly, and I sighed, trying to catch my breath. Suddenly, he jerked again, faster and faster, harder and harder.

"HANS!"


	9. Kapitel 9

He gently kissed me on the lips, running his hand up and down my back. Everything had gone perfectly, and now we lay between the wool blanket and the bear fur rug; the fire was before us. The pain from our lovemaking was finally settling in my body; I could tell that I would be sore for a week _at least._

The silence spoke a million words; neither of us wanted to ruin the moment. However, my curiosity got the better of me and I broke the silence.

"What do you think?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows and looked down at me. "Hm?"

"Did I do a good job?"

He laughed. "You _are_ a child, asking questions at every moment!" He kissed the top of my head, smiling. "You did an absolutely wonderful job."

I noticed his hair was messily hanging over his forehead. I stroked the hair away, and I froze.

"_He was a colonel in the SS and I personally carved a swastika into his forehead."_ Lieutenant Raine's words echoed through my head.

"Who _are_ you?" I asked, pulling away; I was scared beyond belief.

He sat up. "Elizabeth—"

"Tell me," I demanded coldly.

He looked down, sighing loudly. After a long pause, he cleared his throat and looked back at me.

"I am Colonel Hans Landa of the SS."

I blinked. "Why didn't you tell me this?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Elizabeth…You are a beautiful, _beautiful_ woman. The moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my days with. I-I thought it would be okay, that you wouldn't be a relative." His eyes met mine. "When you told me that you're name is Cohen…Elizabeth, I was _crushed._"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I stood up and picked up my clothes. "I thought we had something special!" I shouted.

He jumped up, taking me in his arms. "We still can, if you put my sins and your misfortunes behind us!" He sat down on the bed, pulling me onto his lap. "We both have something that others don't have."

"What?" I asked softly, turning my head away.

"I have you and you have me. Angel, we share a love that will last _forever_."

The words that left his lips were the perfect words I had always wanted to hear; and he spoke nothing but the truth. He had never lied to me; at least he had spoken the truth. _Forget about the past and live in the present._

"I have a secret as well."


	10. Kapitel 10

"You are keeping secrets as well?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "You are a hypocrite, aren't you? What have you been keeping from me?"

I looked away from him, unable to look him in the eye as I told him of my precious secrets and the horrible lies I had told him. "I am who you think I am: Elizabeth Cohen; and I did, in fact, lose my family to the Nazis."

He nodded.

"A good friend had come here a few months ago, and he told me what he had done to my family's killer — _you_. That scar on your forehead is really because of what you did to my family. I spent a few months perfecting my American speech so that I could come and kill you, making you think I was one of the Americans who gave you that scar."

"How are you not American?" he interrupted. "You speak like an American and you have the same accent as some of the Americans I've met."

I cleared my throat. "I'm really from Ireland," I answered in my native Irish accent. "I spent a long time with a friend who had no accent, and he taught me how to speak like an American would."

He seemed to understand. I helped him button his shirt and I straightened his tie.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"At least _I_ didn't lie to you," he answered, an icy sting in his voice. "I'm going out to think it over. I'll be back in an hour or two." He pulled on a coat and a fedora.

"Don't go," I pleaded quietly.

He looked down at me. "Don't leave, Elizabeth. I promise you, I'll be back." He smiled weakly and kissed my forehead, then proceeded down the stairs.

_At least he'll come back. He seems like he'd keep his promises_, I told myself. I waited a second before going down the stairs, wrapped in a blanket. I stood by the window and watched him walk to the road. He turned around to look at me; shaking his head, he stuck his hands in his coat pocket and walked down the road. When he was out of sight, I decided it was safe to explore the house; I started by looking in his closet for clothes.

In his bedroom I found some clothes; a blouse and a skirt. I put them on, despite the odd feeling of wearing another woman's clothes. _Obviously he's a ladies' man. _

I started in the basement, finding that it was more of a bomb shelter than a real basement. The first floor was comprised of a parlor, a sitting room, a bedroom, a dining room and a kitchen. When I scoped the second floor, I found three bedrooms, another sitting room and a small library.

I walked around the library, looking at all the famous titles he kept. Upon further examination, I found there were books in fluent English, German, French, and Italian. _He's smart. If he's read all of these, that means he's fluent in four languages!_

In the corner of my eye, I noticed a wall with a doorknob. It was unusual; it was obvious there was no door there. It piqued my curiosity. I pulled on the doorknob and the wall opened to reveal another staircase. I hesitated, debating whether or not to go up; my curiosity got the better of me, as always, and I ventured up the stairs.


	11. Kapitel 11

_December 15, 1944_

_I feel now that I have no meaning in my life. I have this mark on my head, a mark that will forever remain. It will always mark who I was, even though most people are aware that I have never truly been a Nazi. I only wished to be a detective; my wish was granted when I met those in the SS. Because of them my dream was fulfilled. Because of Lieutenant Aldo Raine my dream was destroyed._

_I have visited my new home on Nantucket Island only once for a few weeks. It is nice, and is by far more comforting than the walls that surround me now. I am back in Germany for unfinished business regarding my personal life. I feel my homeland holds more options than America does; I know that this is true. _

_I have had many women in my time; women from Italy, France, and America to name a few. I long for the days when my Anne was alive; I feel empty without her, and I miss spending time with her. I regret joining the Nazi Party because of the things that were done against her._

_Something had been telling me, however, that I would find the girl; and I believe I have found her at last. _

_She has been held captive for about a week by men who used to be under my command. I do not know why she is wanted by them, but I plan to save her. I hope to grow close with her and possibly have her as my own. My mind consistently tells me she will be the one to heal the hole in my heart._

_Her hair is a darker brown than mine; despite many days in captivity it still looks clean. Her eyes are a deep chocolate brown; I swear I can taste chocolate when I see her eyes. She has fair skin __—__ paler than mine __—__ and there are freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and nose, which is very small. Her figure is one of a dancer. She has lips that are pink and I want more than anything to kiss her. She is the cutest thing I have ever seen. _

_They have made sure she is unconscious daily. They give her drugs every time she regains consciousness; I am afraid that it will have a lasting effect on her. I promise to kill those men when I get the chance. I overheard them speaking of interrogation; they plan to do it sometime in mid-January. When they interrogate her, I will be there. I promise to her and to God that I will save her._

_My biggest fear, aside from her possible death, is that I will be found out. There will come a day when someone finds out I am really the son of two Jewish actors, who were both killed in April of 1941. I never wanted to become the monster that people believe I am; I really just wanted to find someone who would believe I am anything but a monster._

_The scar on my head reminds me of the monster that has taken over the once innocent body of Hans Landa._


End file.
